


Never enough

by Yksinaisyys



Category: Ski Jumping RPF
Genre: Kraftboeck, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 20:39:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6439621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yksinaisyys/pseuds/Yksinaisyys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coming back to Berlin together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ilargia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilargia/gifts).



Morality didn't exist when it was about that boy. Together they broke every rule he thought he had. Memories from all the preachings that he heard as a little kid from the priest in his hometown - were gone with the first touch they shared. The second touch was enough for the certainty that it was worth commiting all the deadly sins and crimes. 

The way his body reacted to the season's end was a harsh circumstance, leading Michael to realisation, that Stefan's presence in his life made him utterly hungry. Every word Stefan said left him wanting more. Every interview. Hunger. Every kiss. Hunger. Every JumpandReach event. Hunger! To the point of the constant trembling of a drug addict. Either was he getting high on Stefan or was looking for a new way to do so. Either was he in his nearest proximity or his lips were dry from the nervous thirst. When did he become insatiable? 

He was the one to ask Dirk to invite both of them to his annual Talk untern Turm in Berlin. Just to have an excuse to spend another night in the city, where magic already happened.  
Even if this time it meant that he would have to secretly steal him from Marisa, by offering him a little hide-and-seek play.  
They had to hurry up, contrary to the long post-competition sessions, filled with words, showers  
and hundreds of various positions. This time it had to be straight-forward, one hand in Stefan's pants, the other on his mouth to mute him, not to increase the already significant risk of being exposed. But the adrenaline added to the excitement, turning them on to obscenely high levels.  
At this point, it would probably require less effort that he was willing to put, bringing on the precise movements, that he would remember at any given time in any given conditions. And the boy-as his surname stated – liked it strong. So Michael delivered thoroughly until Stefan climaxed, leaving both of his palms warm and moist- a sensation being almost enough for his own orgasm. But Stefan would use his fingertips, sliding them under the denim shirt and going down and down and up and down again...and the world suddenly became all blurry.

It took a few seconds before the sound of elevator woke him back up. But the feeling that he was dreaming didn't finish. The adrenaline, now mixed with endorfins and oxitocin must have altered his brain. What was his name? What was the reason he was now looking through a window at a funny tower and a crowd of people waiting in a queue in front of it? Was he supposed to go somewhere, was some kind of bussiness there to get done?  
He no longer knew.  
But he was sure of one thing.  
Next portion of the drug will leave him in tears, throwing up. And begging for more.

***

Beware. You're watched. You are judged. Every word you use during an interview. Every time you meet with your friends. Every time a team mate asks you for help during warm-up.  
You only get one chance to do or say the right thing. Or you will have to do a lot of explaining.  
Why didn't you mention his name for the third time during a tv show? Why did you spend so much time taking selfies with fans? Why were you such careless to let Marisa take Dirk's invitation to Berlin? And why didn't you stop her from calling Claudia?  
Mistakes, constant mistakes, all you do is mistakes. And then you have to make up for them.  
And if you are a good boy, you get to heaven. Even if heaven is sometimes located in a narrow hotel corridor, three floors above the room that Eurosport booked for you.  
And if you are not so good - you're punished. By silence or otherwise, he knows your weak points.  
He knows where to strike. How to inflict just the right amount of pain so you're led in the better direction. In his direction.  
And he won't refrain from manipulating the reality, forcing it to steer you. You don't remember when was the last time when it was actually you who made any kind of an important decision. And why would you even want to be in control? When the reward for following his guidance is so precious?  
The hair in this unique shade of liquid gold, oh, those hair are worth it. If you would have to trade your golden eagle only for Michael's hair, you would without a doubt. And there is so much more than this beautiful hair. His complexion, almost translucent, yet so vivid in your perception. Face muscles getting tense when he is listening and carefully analysing your speech. You easily get his full attention.  
Those impossibly long, snow white and ice cold fingers clutching around your member are the answer to every question. And you don't want to waste time asking questions, anyways. You focus on more important tasks.Your life's aim is now the mutual pleasure and he is aware of the influence his hands have upon you.

You allow all your boundaries to dissolve.  
You are no longer a separate person. You're not individual. And therefore you're not responsible for anything. His greediness becomes a liberating gift for you. You're fulfilled, calm and grateful. You may just spend your life unwrapping all the boxes and collecting colourful ribbons and that perspective keeps you alive.

And then you wonder how to give him everything in exchange.  
But everything is never enough.


End file.
